I read the below poem recently in a book that I'm reading and it's been stuck in my thoughts since. In the story, the character reciting the verse, Dmitry Karamazov, sees himself as the sensual insect because of his sinful behaviour, which he feels has a hold on him such that can never be overcome. 

He makes another statement that, because of the context, sticks with me as well:

"...a man with a noble heart and a superior intelligence may start out with the Madonna as his ideal and end up with Sodom as his ideal. It is worse for the one striving for his Sodom ideal, who has not renounced his Madonna ideal, which still sets his heart ablaze, as it did when he was young and innocent."

"Joy eternal pours its fires

In the soul of God's creation,

And its sparkle then inspires

Life's mysterious fermentation.

Joy fills with light the plants' green faces,

Regulates the planets' runs,

Fills immeasurable spaces

With innumerable suns.

All things drink with great elation

Mother Nature's milk of joy,

Plant and beast and man and nation

Sweetness of her breast enjoy.

To man prostrated in the dust,

Joy brings friends and cheering wine;

Gives the insects sensual lust,

Angels-happiness divine."